Even Angels Have Their Wicked Schemes
by Lucy Grayson
Summary: ...And You Take That To New Extremes. John Cena's life is perfect. Perfect. Until tragedy strikes and he finds himself looking in on the gaps his life left behind. Rated for possible distressing themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is an idea that popped into my head whilst I was watching something on t.v. I don't know how much further I'm going to take it, I just wanted to see how it would go. So, let me know if you want me to continue.**

* * *

_Even angels have their wicked schemes,_

_And you take that to new extremes,_

_But you'll always be my hero,_

_Even though you've lost your mind._

* * *

"Liz!…Lizzie! Hey!"

"What?" Liz appeared at the top of the stairs, wrapping in a pale blue towel. Her dark hair was wet and dripping down her shoulders. She was looking down at her husband curiously. He grinned and bounded up the stairs, sweeping her into his arms. She squealed and giggled, "John! You're getting soaked!" She protested as he pressed his nose into the crook of her neck. He hugged her close and peppered kisses all over her face, as she laughed and tried to fight him off. "Would you quit it!" She whacked him playfully and he let up a little, resting his hands on her waist as he captured her mouth in a breathtaking kiss. She sighed softly against his mouth and he felt like he might burst as he held her in his arms. He was the luckiest man alive, "I'm going to the store, do you want anything?"

Liz stared at him for a moment, before laughing, "You got me out of the shower for that?" John shrugged, grinning at her again and she thought for a moment, before smiling, "Could you get me some ice cream? Your son is craving it." She ran her hands fondly over the roundness of her belly and John immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his cheek against the soft protrusion, "My boy wants ice cream, huh? Don't worry, Champ. Daddy'll get it for you. You look after Mommy whilst I'm gone."

Liz looked down at him, resting her small hand on the top of his head lightly, the other braced against her side. She smiled affectionately and watched as he kissed her bump through the towel and then rose to his feet, kissing her again. "I wont be long."

"Don't be." She whispered softly and then let him go. He stopped and looked up at her again as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "I love you."

Liz grinned and nodded, "I love you too, baby. Now, go. Mommy needs ice cream." John saluted and then grabbed his keys before jogging out of the front door. Liz smiled to herself and gently rubbed her stomach, humming softly as she headed back to the bathroom to finish her shower.

John rushed through the store, keeping his baseball cap fairly low so as not to attract too much attention. He grabbed the things he needed, then stood in front of the freezer and stared at the different types of ice cream. There were so many! He knew what Liz liked, but her tastes had changed a lot since she'd gotten pregnant and he wasn't sure if she'd want chocolate or fruit. Maybe toffee. Or maybe all three. He thought about it for several long minutes, before he opened the door and grabbed an armful of different flavours. She had to like at least one of them and he could eat the rest. He grinned to himself as he took his bounty to the register.

The lad serving him recognised him almost instantly and John happily chatted to him for as long as he felt he could spare and signed his hat before giving it to him. He paid and left, feeling like he was walking on clouds. He threw his load into the back seat of his cat and hopped behind the wheel. He flicked on the stereo and as he turned to back out of the parking lot, his eyes caught the car seat which he had already fitted into the car. A new grin spread over his face. He could hardly wait for the baby to be born. He looked away from it and set his mind to driving home.

It was only ten minutes along the freeway and John was singing along to the stereo as he drove. He paid little attention to the speedometer, knowing he was going a little too fast, but he just wanted to get home to his beautiful wife. He didn't see the semi in front of him hit a patch of ice. He didn't see it jack-knife across the lane until it was too late. He didn't have time to register what was happening before his fragile car suffering the high speed impact with the side of the truck.

"LIZ!"

* * *

John sighed as he sat on the swing in the back yard. It was sunny, but cold. His eyes were fixed on the house. He could see Liz. She was in the kitchen with her parents. She looked beautiful. She was dressed in purple, bright purple. _His_ purple. The dress was stunning. It fitted her perfectly, gently caressing the roundness of her stomach, falling down to her knees elegantly. Her legs were encased in black tights and her feet were slipped into a pair of sensible black ballet slippers. Her hair was pinned back carefully and within it was pinned a small flourish of purple and black feathers.

John rose to his feet. The swing didn't move. He walked slowly towards the house and stood at the window looking in. His heart hurt. He lifted a hand to press against the glass, watching as his fingers left small imprints on the clear surface. At that moment Liz turned in his direction. She looked right at him. She looked at his hand and frowned. She approached the window and lifted her own hand, pressing it gently into the marks on the glass, shaping her hand against his.

Her mother approached her and placed her hands on her shoulders. Liz's face crumpled and her beautiful eyes closed in despair. She seemed to curl in on herself as small, crystalline tears fell down her cheeks and coated her long eyelashes. John immediately walked into the kitchen through the open door and stood beside her. He made no move to touch her. "Don't cry, baby. Please, don't cry. I'm right here."

Liz's sobs penetrated his heart and he felt like he was dying. Again. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he already knew that he couldn't. He couldn't be close to her. Not physically, but he would never leave her. His heart split into a thousand pieces as he watched Liz being engulfed in the embraces of her parents. She shattered before his eyes and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't do a damn thing.

He was so angry, so destroyed. He'd caused this pain. He'd hurt her like this and he couldn't help. He couldn't even touch her without her shuddering. He couldn't talk to her or tell her how much he loved her. How sorry he was that he'd had to leave her. He hadn't wanted to. He'd tried so hard not to.

It had hurt so much. He could remember the pain as if he could still feel it. He knew he was dying. Somehow, he'd just known and his only thought had been her. Only ever her. There was no-one and nothing else. She was everything. She was air and light and warmth. He couldn't leave her. He couldn't let her down like that.

It had taken him a while to figure out what had happened. He'd been so confused. He'd run to her in the hospital, tried to take her in his arms, but she had turned from him. Turned to the doctor. He'd listened as the man explained to her what had happened. He'd watched her collapse on the floor and tried to speak to her. He'd screamed and screamed, begging her to hear him. He had needed her to understand that they were wrong. He was alive. He was right there next to her, just like he'd always promised he would be.

She hadn't heard him. It was then that he'd known. He knew what he was now and he had fought against it. He couldn't be dead. He had too much to live for. He had a child on the way. He had the most beautiful wife in the world. Yet, here he was.

He watched now as Liz's parents led her away from the window and out of the front door. He ran to catch up to them. He watched as they entered the black limousine that was parked outside of the house, then his eyes flashed to the hearse. He stared at the huge bouquet of flowers, resting beside the pine coffin which read; The Champ is Here. He felt his dead heart contract.

* * *

He listened to various people talking about him, about his life and it occurred to him that he had been an exceptionally lucky man, to have been surrounded by the wonderful people that had inhabited his world. He looked around at his friends, family and colleagues and felt proud. His eyes strayed often to Liz. She sat in the front, surrounded by those who loved her. It was wrong, though. Wrong that she should be here at all.

John stood and walked slowly along the church aisle, growing closer and closer to his own coffin. No-one looked up, no-one saw him. They kept their heads bowed in prayer as he walked. He stared at the silver plaque on the casket which bore his name and felt a wave of sickness pass over him. He couldn't comprehend that his body was in there, his physical form. The form of him that had loved Liz so completely that it had fought it's hardest not to die. Not to leave her.

He didn't know what to do now. He didn't know how to proceed. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to have gone somewhere else. He didn't know where, though. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to be where Liz was, even if she couldn't see or hear him. He wanted to be close to her, to watch over her. But, what could he do? He couldn't protect her. He had no more substance than a thought, an idea. He was nothing but a memory. The lingering spirit of ashes.

"John, was one of the kindest people that I knew. He gave his whole heart to everything he did. He lived and breathed for his wife, Liz and I know how excited he was about having a son. To work with, he was the best. He went out there every night and did everything he could to give the fans the best show they had ever seen. He never gave less than all he had.

As a friend, there was none better. He was someone that you knew would be there to lift you up. He'd make you smile or he'd give you the greatest advice. John Cena was one of my best friends and there are no words to express how much I am going to miss him." Randy Orton's voice cracked a little as he finished speaking and moved away to return to his seat after passing Liz and giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

John watched Randy with a frown. He'd never seen him cry, never seen him upset. Come to think of it, he'd never seen most of the people here cry. Most of them were wrestlers, naturally. He was moved by their opinions of him, by the love which he had been privileged enough to receive from so many good people and he wished he had taken the time to tell them that more often. It was just so sudden. So unexpected. This wasn't supposed to happen to him. There was still so much left that he had to do.

He looked at Liz and saw that she had her hands covering her face, sobbing quietly. He moved to crouch beside her, reaching up as if to brushed her hair back, but he stopped, knowing he couldn't touch her. He sighed and spoke to her quietly, "It's alright, baby. I'm here. I'll never leave you. I promise." He lowered his eyes to the floor. He'd already broken that promise. He wasn't there. Not really. If he was then none of this would have been happening.

The funeral went much faster than he had imagined it would, but he was grateful for it. Back at the house people were crowding around Liz, giving her their condolences and John could see that she just wanted to get away from them. He kept his distance, just watching. He saw her talking to her mother, her face once more tight with despair and suddenly her voice grew loud of all the others, "He was just going to the store! He was going to get ice cream, he was meant to be back in ten minutes!" She ripped the feathery pin from her hair and threw it in a futile fit of anger and then raced away from the crowds and up the stairs. John followed, moving silently.

He entered their bedroom to find her lying on her side, one arm wrapped around her rounded stomach, the other curled into the front of her hair. Her tears wracked her body, causing her to tremble. John walked forwards and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her and wished he had the ability to cry. He would never have stopped if he'd been able to.

"Why did you go? Why aren't you still here?" Liz whimpered and for a moment John thought that she had noticed him sat there, before he realised that her eyes were on the photograph beside the bed. Their wedding day. He sighed and looked at her again, "I'm sorry, Lizzie. I tried."

"You should be here! How am I supposed to raise our son alone?" The tears streamed unchecked down her face and she buried it into the blankets.

"I'm so sorry, Lizzie." John whispered. He wished that she could hear him, just one more time so that he could tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was. He wished he could hold her in his arms and feel the warmth of her, the gentle curves of her body and the roundness of her stomach, filled with their child. Their son.

How had it ended up like this? How had she been left alone to deal with this? He should be there. He should be able to comfort her, hold her hand. They should have been picking names and painting the nursery right now, not separated by an impossible wall between life and death. His Liz. His beautiful Liz. Why should she have to suffer this? Why should either of them?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, general consensus is that I should keep going with this so, here is chapter 2.**

**Thanks to; _cenarko1986, Sonib89, Tenshi no Koneko _and _Cena-Centric333 _for reviewing the last chapter. Very much appreciated :)

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Liz reached out and touched the tips of her fingers to the small screen, touching the image of her son, sleeping peacefully in her womb. She took a deep breath to try and dispel the lump in her throat and the tears that were stinging her eyes. She felt her other hand being squeezed and turned, biting on her lower lip to keep it from quivering. She felt the familiar arms wrap around her as a small sob pulled itself from her throat. "He should be here, Mom. He should see this."

"I know, my darling." Was the gentle reply. It took a few minutes for Liz to gather herself. She sat up and swiped impatiently at her eyes and smiled apologetically at the consultant, "I'm sorry. It's just hard without John."

"I understand. I can't imagine how difficult this time must be for you, but you'll be pleased to know that your son is perfectly healthy and seems very happy in there. Because of the stress of your current situation, I just want to remind you that if you ever have any worries, don't hesitate to call." Liz smiled gratefully and nodded. She stood up and straightened her clothes, after she'd removed the gooey gel from her stomach. She placed her hand protectively over her bump as she reached down to retrieve her handbag, then straightened and turned to the doctor once more, "Thank you, Doctor Lindam. I appreciate it."

The doctor nodded and opened the door for her and her mother. John slipped out behind them, unseen. His face was a mask of frustration. Liz cried so much these days and he hated it. He wanted to stop her tears, to tell her that he was with her all the time. He never left her side. He wanted to tell her how amazing he thought she was for being so strong and for continuing to focus all of her energy on being healthy and ready for their baby, even though he could see in her eyes that she just wanted to break down.

There were only six weeks left before the baby was due and they'd had everything prepared, but since the accident -John refused to think of it as his death- she had decided she couldn't live in their house and had moved in with her parents, who were in the process of turning their study into a nursery. John hated it. It was too dark and it smelled of old leather. Even if it hadn't, he'd still have hated it. It wasn't _their _nursery; the beautiful room that he and Liz had lovingly painted and furnished together.

Sometimes he went back there and sat in that silent house, devoid of anything that had made it home. Liz had made it home. It was where he knew she would always be and now she was gone. The laughter was gone. It was as if the house were frozen at a specific moment in time; everything was there, ready and waiting, but there was no-one there now. It was hollow.

In those lonely hours, as he stared around his home, John wondered why he had gotten stuck here. Why hadn't he gone where he was supposed to? What if this was it? What if there was nowhere else to go? He didn't believe that, though. He knew that there had to be _something._

He thought that might be better; to find somewhere that there was no time, no pain and no grief. Somewhere that he could just find peace. He felt so restless, so frustrated all of the time. He wanted to be able to reach across the divide that had opened and comfort Liz or better still, for there to be no reason for him to need to comfort her. Anything had to be better than this.

Then he imagined never being able to see Liz again and he couldn't bear that thought. Even though it hurt him, even though he could hardly bear to be so close to her and unable to touch her, at least he could see her and know that she was safe. He could know that her life continued and that in some way, so did his. In their son. Their unborn baby. He could never go back, but he could watch over Liz as she went forwards.

His heart ached that he would never again be able to tell her how beautiful she was or how wonderful a mother she was going to be, even if she doubted it. He hoped that she knew. He hoped that she never doubted, even for one second how much he had adored and worshipped her.

He sighed as he stood in the parking lot of the hospital and watched Liz climbing into her Mom's car. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his clothes were the only thing he seemed able to physically touch and even they were not in the best of condition. His shirt had received quite a few rips in the crash and his jeans were covered in oil and dirt. It didn't bother him, they were just a memory…just like him.

"Lizzie, I know it's hard, but you will get through this." Liz sighed and looked over at her Mom. She nodded and looked out of the windshield. She could see people moving in and out of the hospital constantly, but then he gaze froze and she caught her breath sharply. She sat forward and slammed her hands onto the dashboard. "John." She breathed, her eyes fixed on a spot near the entrance to the hospital.

"Liz? What is it?" Liz frowned and shook her head, as if clearing it and sat back. "Nothing. I just thought I saw something." Of course it was her imagination, for the first few days, she'd seen him everywhere. She could have sworn, though. She could have sworn that had been him, stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring right at her. She knew it wasn't true, she knew it was just her mind paying tricks on her, but she just couldn't comprehend the possibility that she was never going to see him again. She was still convinced that he was going to walk through the door and everything would be fine. Whilst her brain had accepted and understood what happened, her heart would not follow suit. John couldn't be gone. It wasn't possible.

She winced a little as she felt the baby stretching about inside of her, sticking his feet into her ribs. She gently stroked her bump. All this sadness, all the pain, it couldn't be good for him. She needed to find a way to push through it, but she just wanted to cry all the time. She wanted to kick and scream and demand that someone fix it. That someone find John and bring him back to her because a future without him was no future at all.

She lifted a hand and rubbed her eyes tiredly, "This wasn't meant to happen, Mom. Not to me. Not to us." She heard her mother sigh gently, not with impatience, but sympathy. Liz knew that her parents desperately wanted to help and yet knew that they couldn't. This was something only she could feel, only she could find a way through. They kept telling her that she was doing well and that she was strong enough, but how could they know? Neither of them had ever been through it, thank the heavens. They had been together since they were sixteen and had never been apart.

"Carol called. She wanted to know how you're doing and if it would be alright for her and John to come over?" Liz knew that she meant John's father, but hearing the name still sent darts of pain through her. She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded, mustering her strength to speak, "Yes, that's fine. Just let me know when." She tried to sleep the rest of the journey home, but she knew it was impossible. The car was cold and her mother refused to put the heater on and it was too quiet. Sleeping was never quiet when John was around. He talked in his sleep and he snored in he lay on his back. He was a heavy sleeper too, so often Liz had to shove him onto his side to shut him up.

She smiled at the memory, but it was swiftly followed by the familiar urge to burst into tears. Every happy memory was tinged with pain, now. She knew it would pass and in time…a lot of time, she would be able to look back and not hurt over those memories. They would be experiences to be cherished, not taunts of a life that would never be.

It was dark by the time they got back to the house and the lights were on inside. Liz stepped out of the car with a sense of lethargy. She wasn't sure she could bear another night being smothered by the constant stream of well wishers that stopped by her parents' house. She knew that it was because they cared, but she just wanted time to grieve, or at the very least be around people who had actually known John, known who he was and what he would have wanted.

She caught the anxious expression on her Mom's face and forced a smile to try and reassure her. It must have come out a little twisted, because the older woman just frowned, before opening the front door and holding it for her. "We're home!"

"Good. Lizzie, there's someone here to see you." Liz's father's voice boomed from the living room and Liz let out a quiet groan as she shrugged out of her coat, "I'll be right there." She didn't have the energy to hide the dread in her voice. She took her time removing her scarf and fussing over her hair in the hallway mirror, before finally entering the living room.

She let out a small gasp as she saw who was sitting there waiting for her, "Danny?" Daniel Cena smiled at her and stood up. He held open his arms and she all but ran into them, burying her face in his chest. John's older brother just happened to be Liz's best friend. It hadn't always been that way, they'd hated each other at first, but right now, she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather see right now.

* * *

"So, how are you feeling?" Dan sat himself down at the kitchen table and watched Liz carefully as she made them both coffee. She shrugged, absently rubbing her stomach, before glancing at him, "Like hell, to be honest." She placed his coffee in front of him, then sat opposite him with her own. She cradled the cup between her hands and stared at the scrubbed wood of the table. The familiar stinging behind her eyes was starting again and she wished she could go more than five minutes without wanting to cry. Danny reached over and gripped her wrist gently, "I know, Liz. Believe me. I know."

She nodded and pushed her coffee cup away a little, before rubbing both of her hands down her face. She felt tired, exhausted actually. Her nights were filled with horrific nightmares and tears. She couldn't sleep knowing John wasn't coming home. "How are your parents holding up?" She asked, simply to have something to say. Dan shrugged and sat back in his chair, "They're putting a brave face on. Mom keeps saying that at least you and the baby are still here to keep John's memory alive."

Liz bottom lip quivered weakly and she drew in her breath sharply, determined not to cry again. Every word felt like a blow, every attempt at conversation. The thoughts, the grief and the pain were never far away. She was never going to escape it. She felt the hot tears running down her cheeks before she'd even realised she was crying. Danny was up immediately and at her side. He crouched beside her and wrapped her in his arms, "Oh, Lizzie. I know, honey. I miss him too."

It was different with Dan, because he really understood. No-one had known John better than his big brother and that was more comfort than all the well wishers in the world. She let herself go completely, let the grief pour out of her and for the first time she actually felt comforted because of all the people who had come here to try and make her feel better, here was someone who was grieving for John just as much as she was. "He-…He should be here, Danny. I can't d-do this without him."

"I know." Dan didn't try to stem her tears or make her look on the 'bright side' because there wasn't one. He was gone and he was never coming back and there was nothing, _nothing _that could make that better, nothing that could make it hurt any less than it did. It was cruel and needless and totally, utterly unfair. All the horrors in the world and it had been John that was taken out of it, John that was ripped from their grasp, from the loving arms of his wife and unborn child.

Murderers and rapists walked free every single day, but a hard-working man who loved his family and never hurt anyone was snatched from life like nothing. Just snuffed out as if he were nothing more than a candle, bright and illuminating, but only temporary and so fragile.

Dan felt tears pricking at his own eyes and did nothing to hold them back. He and Liz cried together; mourning the husband, mourning the brother. Mourning the man that they had both loved fiercely.

John was glad that Danny was with Liz. He trusted his older brother to take care of her, to protect her and help her through this. It was something he would not truly trust to anyone else. He sat on the sideboard at the far end of the kitchen and watched them. He felt a dart of resentment as Dan put his arms around Liz, as he wiped the tears from her face. Those touches should have been his and his alone. This time should have been theirs; his and Liz's. It should belong to no-one else.

He knew, though, that if someone else had to be there to keep her strong, he would rather it be Daniel than anyone else. Dan was strong and brave, he was the kind of person that John had always wished he could be. He loved all of his brothers, of course he did, but he had looked up to Danny. When they were kids he had followed him everywhere. Together they had spent years torturing Matt, Steve and Sean.

All five of them had been close. Their whole family had, but the relationship between Dan and John had been something special. More friendship that brotherhood in a lot of ways. When Dan had met Liz, they had hated one another. Dan had found her snobbish and arrogant and she had thought much the same as him. It was only after a long time that they had realised they disliked each other only because they were so very similar. They'd been almost inseparable since. Dan spent almost as much time at their house as John did.

It had never bothered John. He liked that Dan was there to keep an eye on Liz whilst he was on the road and he trusted his brother and his wife completely and knew that they would never give him reason to doubt that trust. Now, though, he would have given anything to be in his brother's place, just for a moment.

It made him angry, though he knew it wasn't Dan he was angry with. He was just angry in every way that it was possible for a person to be angry. It was frustration and rage, coupled with grief and sadness. It was something uncontrollable and poisonous and he tried to ignore it. He did everything he could to stop the fury from building up inside of him because it wasn't fair to any of them.

Poor Liz, she looked so broken as she moved out of Dan's arms and wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to stem the tears. If she just looked around, maybe she would see him. If he concentrated all his energy, maybe he could make her see him, just for a second. All he wanted was a single moment, so that she would know he was here, yet even as he tried, he knew it was impossible. He knew it was ridiculous.

He summoned every ounce of strength that he could muster, every tiny drop of intensity and tried to focus it into something. He didn't know what, but he needed her to see him. He shouted her name, but she didn't turn. He felt like he was going to explode if he tried anymore. He was more tense than he could ever remember being, holding the breath that he drew only from habit and no longer from need. His head felt like it should be throbbing in pain and fit to burst. It reached a fever pitch in his mind, he could give no more than he was at that moment and as he reached the absolute limit of his strength, there was an explosion.

* * *

Liz let out a small scream and almost jumped out of the chair. Dan threw his hands up over his head as tiny shards of razor sharp glass rained down over his head. They both looked up in astonishment at the light fitting where the bulb had just exploded over their heads.

Liz's parents both ran into the room, almost bumping into each other in the dark, "What happened? Why did you scream?"

"Mom, stop panicking, the bulb went, that's all. Dad, turn the light on in the hall, it's pitch black in here. Ow! Mom, that was my foot." Liz shook her head and the absurdity of the situation and felt an unwanted giggle bubble up through her lips. The sound was alien to her and she tried to stop it, but she couldn't. The giggle became a laugh and within seconds, she was curled in on herself, holding her stomach as she cried with laughter.

It didn't take long for the laughter to stop and the tears to take over again. She exhausted herself quickly and Dan announced that he was going to take her up to her room. He gently tucked her into bed and smoothed her hair back from her face. She looked up at him and spoke in a whisper, "Do you think he knows, Danny? How much he's missed?"

"He knows, Lizzie." Danny nodded and gently took her hand, squeezing it lightly, "Get some sleep." Liz was reluctant, but she could barely keep her eyes open and eventually had to admit defeat. Dan sighed as he closed the door gently and leant against it. He wished there was something he could do to help her. Just anything. She shouldn't have to deal with all of this alone, but what could he do? What would John do?

"What do I do, Johnno? Any advice from up there?" He cast his eyes towards the ceiling as if seeking inspiration. He had no idea that his brother was actually stood right beside him, watching him. Never had John wanted to touch his sibling more. He wanted to squeeze his shoulder, or pat his back. He wanted to let him know that he was glad that he was here to take care of Liz and that he was doing everything he could have asked for, "Just take care of her, Dan. Please, look after her." He said gently, but he knew that his words fell on air and did not penetrate the divide.

Danny lifted a hand to cover his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. He didn't know how to support a grieving widow when he was grieving himself. He knew that he had to. Somehow, he just knew that he had to look after Liz and that that was what John would have wanted him to do. "I look after her, John. I promise." He whispered into nothing, doubting that his brother could even hear him from where he was now.

With a heavy sigh he made his way down the stairs, leaving John stood watching him go.


End file.
